


Junjou Mix

by MarchWindsAprilShowers



Series: Junjou Mix [2]
Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14145354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarchWindsAprilShowers/pseuds/MarchWindsAprilShowers
Summary: This is a never ending drabble series featuring every couple and other characters. (Requests/ideas are welcome, Rated-T for language/suggestive situations) I have posted the link because there are forty-one chapters on FFNet and I don't have the time. But, I will start here at forty-two.





	1. Chapter 1

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12581471/1/Junjou-Mix


	2. Coming Back (Romantica)

It was in the middle of night when Takahiro decided to come back. He had awakened Misaki with a telephone call at four in the morning who had stirred within his lover’s tight embrace before reaching for the glowing rectangle on the nightstand. His ringtone was a little annoying in Akihiko’s case- the ZA-KON opening theme song on blast at the chorus part. But, all of this didn’t matter when green eyes focused on the caller id. 

The brunette nearly leapt about of bed, somehow gaining the strength to escape the author’s iron grip. He took care to leave the bedroom before answering the phone, hoping that Akihiko was enough of a deep sleeper to not find consciousness. His thumb firmly pressed the green button on the screen, tears in his eyes and his heart pounding louder than the analog clock in the lonely kitchen. His hands were sweating. 

“H-Hello?” Misaki breathes, his grip on the device tightening. 

_ “I’m sorry…” _ Is what’s said right off the bat, the younger brother unable to hear the smile in his voice anywhere.  _ “I’m sorry, Misaki, I just...I shouldn’t have left you like that. I shouldn’t have cared about you being with him. I should have just been happy that you were happy and if that’s with Akihiko...then so be it.”  _

“Nii-chan, it’s okay-” 

_ “No, it’s not. All I could see was your relationship bringing you heartache. You’ve already had to suffer through life being an orphan and the last thing you needed was another label. I should have supported you from day one. I’m so sorry. I understand if you can’t forgive me-”  _

The younger man let out a quiet sob, leaning up against the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Hi? AND YOU THOUGHT I ABANDONED THIS WELL GUESS WHAT- I was really busy with graduating and I have been working on other things but NOW IM BACK.


	3. Below Average (Romantica)

Akihiko wasn’t sure what Misaki _isn’t_ seeing in whenever he looked in the mirror. Although the author had an answer to everything, this was one question left standing. How could Misaki not like what he saw? He was perfect, maybe not runway model material on the count of him being too short and cute, but extremely attractive nonetheless. How could he not _see_ that?

It kind of hurt to watch the worried look green eyes gave to his reflection. The way he’d tug at his skin as if it were wrinkly and dull, sighing disappointedly at his thin frame, deeming his hair to be boring and lifeless. It was easy to tell that he thought of himself to be below average. The little mumble he’d make asking the whoever was listening why the hell he couldn’t look more like his brother gave it away even more. It even showed when he’d dodge cameras, delete photos of himself, fiercy ignore reflections, and avoid clothes shopping like the plague. And if he must get a few new things, it’s done as quickly as possible with nothing special. Skin care was a huge thing for him at least, but every time he’d moisturize his face or put on a mask, he’d then mumble about why he should even bother.

Furthermore, he doesn’t look like someone Akihiko would proudly love and show off. Unlike himself, his lover could be a model _,_ and could have one if he wanted to, but here he is, holding hands with a below average. Lavender eyes looking at him hungrily, at a _below average._ People seeing them walking down the street together was embarrassing enough if they even noticed the younger man in the first place. They were obviously wondering why a below average would even be in the same proximity as the author.

However, Akihiko saw things terribly different. He saw glowing, clear skin that wasn’t tan or ghastly pale with charming rosy cheeks. He saw the perfect height and beautiful, healthy slimness. He saw the shiny, chocolate brown hair, straight and smooth. He saw the big, green eyes hiding forests of truth and emotion, crowded in thick eyelashes, framed by expressive brows. Further down, the perfect, button nose and small lips in their natural, alluring coral shade. Small hands with long, piano fingers that held some daintiness, and long but narrow feet with the perfect arch.

In short, he’s cute. Adorable. Endearing. Appealing. Captivating. A dash of charm and hotness, but not too much. Sugar but even more spice. Sexy with some awkward grace. He’s even cute when he’s mad. His everything was perfect, from the curve from his hips into his waist to the scolding tone in his tenor voice.

 _“Why would the universe give you to me?”_ Akihiko thinks, the pad of his thumb sliding across a perfect cheekbone that held some stickiness from sweat. _“What did I do to deserve you? I’m weak to your tears and your smiles. Your every wish is my command. Nearly everything about you is perfect and good and honest, a plethora of people want you- but, here you are, with a below average.”_

 


	4. Update (Terrorist)

It was surprising at first when Miyagi became more affectionate, and openly too. Although Shinobu wasn’t sure what to do with it at first, he more than welcomed it. All the casual, chased kisses to the hugs and intertwined fingers brought warm butterflies. He started feeling like he was finally in a relationship with this goofy, old man. He found his usual sour to neutral face trying to crack a smile or two.

Shinobu sighed through his nose, his hands busy with washing the dinner’s mess in the sink. “Can I help you?” He asks, maybe a little annoyed as the arms circled around his waist tightened.

“Not particularly, no.” Miyagi replies, his entire front up against his lovers back, his chin resting atop a head of blonde hair. “You smell good.” He says, closing his eyes in contentment.

The younger man said nothing else, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He set the last plate on the rack to dry before pulling up the kitchen towel to dry his hands. Suddenly, it fell from his hands and onto the rim of the sink in surprise when lips pressed their way up his neck, then behind his ear and up to his temple. With a huff that was meant to come off as irritated, he picked it up again, folding it properly this time. 

“...Are you horny?” Was that it? It’s the only logical reason as to why the professor is so cuddly at moment- at least to Shinobu it is besides for the change in the daily amount of loving he receives.

Miyagi sputtered, his face set ablaze. “How can you just say stuff like that so blun-!” He remembered who he was talking to. “No, I’m too tired.” Besides, if that was the case, he would have already snatched the blond up before either of them had a chance to think about the stupid dishes. 

Shinobu turned his head to look at his lover, the older man landing a quick kiss before he could say anything. “Then go to bed.” 

“...Not until you do.” He can’t catch any sleep without Shinobu laying next to him these days.

With the audacity to roll his eyes, “You overgrown child, let’s go.” 

“Coming from the person who ruined my sleeping pattern by insisting that we sleep together!” He yelled angrily after his lover, happily following him to the bedroom. “And who are you calling an overgrown child!?” 


	5. Irony (Romantica)

There was never a time in Akihiko’s life when he was confident that he would ever make it this far as a writer. It wasn’t like he aimed to be so successful,  _ G-d no, _ he would have been just as satisfied with his stories living on forever whether or not they gained attention. 

However, this wasn’t because he worried about people disliking his stories, genres, or things as specific to his writing style- 

He is dyslexic. 

As a kid, he realized how different he was next to his classmates. They could read twice as fast as he ever could. But, a young Akihiko didn’t think it meant anything was wrong with him. As he was the creative type, he only figured it was because he pays more attention to the words, takes more of them in. He takes longer to paint the details of the scenery in his head. He couldn’t read a damn thing that fast anyway. Reading at his own pace made catching words his brain erased or misspelled a hell of a lot easier.

Spelling tests: his mortal enemy. He remembers studying so hard for each of them, hours spent reading over the same word just to even remember its existence, let alone its many parts. His memory a gift and a curse- he could remember how the word tasted in his mouth and the definition, but nothing besides that without constant repetition. He perfectly scored on most of the tests though, others not so much because a’s and e’s looked the same, ‘i’ before ‘e’ except after ‘c’ was a struggle, he couldn’t understand why there was a ‘u’ in favourite or colour, etc, etc, etc. Don’t even get him started on Japanese characters. 

He also didn’t score perfectly in math all the time either. He could do calculus in his sleep, classmates even asked for his help or for him to consider tutoring. However, threes and eights tend to look the same. If he wasn’t staring at them closely, he wasn’t sure if the number was three, eight, thirty-three, eighty-eight, thirty-eight, or eighty-three. Sometimes, he would misunderstand a question because his brain decided to erase a word or two in the directions. 

It was why he needed someone to proofread everything he has ever written and was considering to publish. Someone needed to find the flaws he could never see on his own. Hiroki is a valuable asset in this way- avid reader and professor of all things having to do with words. Aikawa was bred for the job she had, even going out of her way to make sure things were perfect on top of doing a better job than the professor could, and all Akihiko could do was bless her heart.

It was also why he would sometimes take forever when completing a manuscript. If writing for a normal person with a brain that loved them was a difficult process, then Akihiko was working twice as hard, if not three times. All the focus he had to put into the process weighed down on him and sometimes it bathed him in so much cabin fever and headaches, he needed to escape. Needed to refuel on food, water, sleep, and Misaki. 

He didn’t hate writing- he loved it, even the struggle that came with it. It was like he was some sucker for an off and on, indifferent girlfriend who is beautiful and full of promises, one he would hope to elope with someday. 

But about the last thing keeping him together, Misaki...the one person who has kept him from running away to the beaches of Hawaii for three months straight just to give his brain a break. Not just because Akihiko shouldn’t be out of work or waste his money, this was all about perseverance. Misaki had a few learning curves himself, but he would always keep going. 

_ “Don’t you think you’re reaching a little far for M-Uni?”  _

_ “So what? I can do anything I want! If it’s harder to do, than so be it!”  _

Although he is still planning for a hermit life in Hawaii for three months straight, he couldn’t help but agree. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe an explanation for why he hasn't gotten his shit completely together as a writer? Maybe not? As a dyslexic writer myself, writing can be incredibly difficult and make keeping deadlines for essays or requests, as well as proofreading, a TRIP.


	6. In Play (Egoist)

Hiroki takes himself way too seriously to ever consider being remotely playful. Even the immaturity that comes from just saying that word is enough to make him glower over his much loved coffee mug. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t because of his pride,  _ because everyone and their dog knew that it was,  _ but there are some days where he just says ‘fuck it’. Like when it snowed and he dragged his lover outside to build snowmen along with an impromptu snowball fight. Or when Nowaki told him not to worry, that ‘it’ll be fun’ when barely trying to convince the professor to join him in the bath. 

It was, in fact, fun. He would never admit this out loud. 

Moments like these were always a blessing. It felt nice to cut loose like pulling his tie at the end of a long day. Nowaki loves them as much as their romantic moments. Even if it’s an evil looking grin from the Kamijou Devil which showed when he was planning a prank on the overly trusting doctor, it was still a smile nonetheless. It was endearing, a sign that Hiroki was completely comfortable around his lover. So, in the end, the younger man doesn’t mind having snow dumped in the back of his jacket.

Or waking up due to a pointing finger poking the tip of his nose.

The sound of rain was what really woke Hiroki up first that morning as it pelted at his shared bedroom window. He rolled over to grab his phone, turning the screen on just so he could check the time. It was noon, and for the first time in awhile, he didn’t mind. He put his phone down, rolling back to where he was- facing his lover who was still deeply slumbering.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Hiroki extended his pointer finger, poking at the tip of Nowaki’s nose. The younger man stirred, shifting to rub at his face to get rid of whatever was pestering him. The professor only continued, lightly scraping his fingernail against the bridge until a fist full of the comforter came up to hide it, blocking whatever was bothering him. 

It didn’t phase the professor, not one bit. Although the nose is now protected, the space between jet-black, perfectly arched brows was not. The tip of his pointer finding its place right in the middle, pressing and moving upwards. Nowaki’s brows furrow, an annoyed hum muffled by the blankets escaping him. 

Hiroki was in the middle of quiet snickering before it stopped short- those vibrant, blue eyes opening so suddenly that it startled him a little.


	7. How Tragic (Romantica)

Misaki stood there in the window, watching the rain fall as the sky became darker. It was late April, and miles away from his view of the city below him was the highway his parents died on today, fourteen years ago. He remembers it like it happened hours earlier instead of yesterday. Green eyes he kept open all night, watching for the headlights that would never come his way again. He remembers being excited because he missed them and his mother promised presents only to receive devastation. 

“Misaki?” His brother, eighteen, called behind him around this time when it was too dark outside to see the droplets plummet. His voice shook and croaked as if his throat burned from the tears he was holding back. 

A sob escaped the child. “...They’re not coming back, are they?” 

Takahiro let out a shaky breath, wondering how his little brother just  _ knew.  _ “They were...in an accident coming home, Misaki. I’m  _ sorry…!”  _

The weather was the same after the funeral, the young boy walking up to the front door of the home that would eventually be sold. But, he wouldn’t know that until his older brother explained in the best way he could that he didn’t make enough money to keep it. 

He was wide eyed when the realization hit him, tear tracks all dried up. The pain and emotion was paralyzing. The  _ guilt. _ He deserved it, because he was the reason-

“Misaki? What’s wrong?” Takahiro asks before opening the front door. 

Misaki didn’t look at him. “It’s...it’s  _ my  _ fault.” 

“What are you talking about? No, it’s not.” 

“I killed them.” 

“No, you didn’t…!” 

“Yes I did, it’s my fault!” 

“No, it’s not!” 

“I asked them to hurry home!” 

“That doesn’t mean you killed them!” 

“Yes, it does, Nii-chan! If I hadn’t of-”

His small shoulders were grabbed as soon as Takahiro lowered to his level. The look on his face only told of pure agony, there were tears in his eyes. “Listen to me very carefully: you didn’t kill anyone. You asking them to come home had nothing to do with the accident, okay?” 

Green eyes found the sidewalk, tears falling freely. “Okay.” He mumbled.

“Never say that ever again.” Although shaky, but firm as their father would have said.

Misaki was suddenly hugged from behind- he wasn’t eight anymore, he wasn’t in his first home, and Takahiro wasn’t there. He was pulled out of his memories and into his lover’s arms. He probably would have cried about it if he had any tears left for the death of his parents. Instead, he leaned into the embrace, still watching the rain until he was coaxed to the bedroom.

The only thing crossing Akihiko’s mind was- 

_ How tragic. _


	8. Gentle Giant (Egoist)

What Hiroki marveled at the most when it came to Nowaki was how  _ gentle  _ he was. It didn’t matter what was going on, if the younger man came into physical contact with him, it was so full of care. And patient, and loving, and  _ warm.  _ It was almost unfathomable that those hands could knock out a grown man standing or lift the heaviest of things with ease. How could they? They were already holding the professor like he was fragile. 

“I’m not gonna break, you know…” The older man says one night, turning into complete mush when a warm hand caressed his cheek, sliding to push a lock of hair behind an ear. 

Nowaki gives him a half smile. “I know,” He leans down to kiss him, Hiroki gladly accepts. “But, you’re so precious to me, I can’t help it.” 

The professor’s face instantly flares, his shoulders rising slightly as they tensed from the heat. “I’m just not used to it…” He grumbles, his eyes darting away.

This was incredibly true. All the people he has been with before were mainly worried about themselves. They didn’t care about Hiroki or even what he was providing them enough to be even remotely kind. It wasn’t like he minded though- he kind of grown accustomed to being a little roughed up so that he could get his end of whatever deal was made. Business and unrequited love, that’s all it was. There were no hard feelings or a lot of respect.

Until Nowaki came in like the typhoon he was abandoned in, fucking that all up. 

“You don’t mind it, do you?” The doctor asks, looking a little concerned. He already knew what was meant by his lover, but he wanted to make sure just in case.

And the professor couldn’t lie, with or without his shield of pride. “No, I...prefer it.” 

That easy smile returned and it was enough for Hiroki to fall in love all over again. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else notice the difference?


	9. One Day (Egoist)

After date night, they had found themselves laying in the field next to the messy sandbox at the park where they met. The sun had set a while ago, so no child would disturb them or complain about how they were in the way. It was silent, dark, and barren- it felt like a different place, down to the grass losing its warmth from the day’s sun. But, the stars made up for it. They always do. 

“I want to buy a house.” Hiroki says, already feeling Nowaki smiling at the idea. “I don’t want to buy my parents’ house or even inherit it. I want my own.” 

“What kind of house would you want?” Nowaki asks, trying to picture in his head of what it would look like. He guess something regal and maybe a little elaborate which would ooze pride.

“Two story and traditional but with western elements in the suburbs, not too far from the city. The colors I’m deciding between are-” 

“Blue and yellow.” They say in unison. 

The doctor continues. “I prefer yellow.” 

“Yellow it is.”

“And I want a big backyard.” 

An eyebrow raises. “For what?” 

“A dog- German shepherd.” 

“We’ll need a fence. I want one of those stone fences with the metal gates at the front and back.”

“Ooh, I like those. And it can have those black mailboxes with the house number in gold on the front.” 

“With a bell that connects to the house.” 

“But we can’t get a house like that without the two or three extra bedrooms.” Nowaki says as a matter of fact. What would they be for? The kids they’re never having? Don’t get the doctor wrong, he loves kids, but he never wanted any of his own. He didn’t want to have to put his life on hold, he liked the extra income, and time spent with his lover was interrupted enough. They aren’t a necessity to fulfill his life and never would be. Hiroki agreed wholeheartedly...except the part about actually liking children.

Their future dog or dogs are already considered as babies, whether they can admit this or not.

“Well, we can use them for other things. You and I could both have offices and the extra one could be a study. I need a place for all my books anyway.” 

The younger man chuckled. “You  _ always  _ need a place for your books. And I know it’s ‘the price of being a well read individual’. What color should the walls be inside?” 

“...Smart ass. I’m thinking a light beige. Maybe the bedroom could be that soft green that was in the last apartment. The study will be something warm, maybe red.”

“The trim should be brown or white.” He concurs. “Do we care about the basement or the garage?” 

“Nope. We never get to talking about the basement.” The professor says as he sits up. He looked back at Nowaki, a hint of a smile on his face. “Let’s discuss it on the way home.”


End file.
